Let Me Love You
by SomeLikeItHot88
Summary: "Tom is calling to take you away, start a new life with a new identity." "…Face this now, fight it, and you'll be free to make any choice you want." Is this the choice he thought she wanted to make? Especially- now? After all that was said and done, after everything was laid out on the table, after her memories came flooding back? Red and Liz must separate.
1. Chapter 1

I have been trying to get back into writing but my muse has disappeared! This is so unedited and completely written on my phone :/ But I was watching the season 2 finale while on the elliptical and then "that" scene which we will not name came on and it made me just a little bit angry and then voilà! This came about.

I will try and fix any mistakes I notice on it and sorry for any errors in advance ;).

And I'm sorry if this is bad... Really sorry but I just can't write fluff by itself, I need smangst lol.

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 _"Tom is calling to take you away, start a new life with a new identity."_

 _"…Face this now, fight it, and you'll be free to make any choice you want."_

Is this the choice he thought she wanted to make? Especially- now? After all that was said and done, after everything was laid out on the table, after her memories came flooding back?

Did he think she wanted to leave his side? How could he fathom being separated from her when he would do anything to keep her safe? She just couldn't make herself understand his motives or actions. Why was he insisting they separate after being joined at the hips for two months?

"You want to send me away?" She asked trying to sound apprehensive and not desperate or clingy but she was sure that the glassiness pooling at her tear ducts gave her away.

In the midst of his self-loathing and guilt, Red had unknowingly let himself be just a tad bit vulnerable and allotted Lizzie some instances in which she could study him and gain a better understanding of what he was feeling or thinking, especially what he wasn't saying. She had memorized all his little quirks and mannerisms and she was slowly learning how to read this unreadable man.

She could practically hear the cogs turning in his head and watched him grab onto each armrest of the chair he sat on until his knuckles went white.

"Just for a little while, to allow enough time to set them off our tail."

There was something he wasn't saying, wasn't disclosing and she watched as he tried to censor his words carefully.

"What is it?" She asked, "What aren't you telling me?"

He gave a little shrug to his shoulders before loosening the grip on the armrests.

There's a roll of his tongue before he speaks and she subconsciously prepares herself for his venom. Like she knows what he's about to say will either hurt or infuriate her.

"I'm surprised that you aren't as happy as I thought you would be at the revelation that you'd be reunited with your husband."

She can't even swallow the lump in her throat because her breath hitches and she forgets how to breathe.

"He's not my husband." That's all she can muster to say, her tone absent of a bite or snarl, just hurt that she cannot contain or hide from him. Because she knows what he's thinking, knows what he thinks she wants and the hurt that his assumptions about her cause inside are so much more powerful than his words.

His left eye-twitches and his jaw tightens just enough for her to know exactly what he thinks she will do, who she will choose and where she will end up and that's enough for her to let go of the tears that she had been forcing to hide behind the surface.

And then another realization hits her, and it hurts more than anything else.

"Sloppy seconds." She whispers as she pieces the puzzle together.

His eye-brows knit in confusion as he watches her, she can see guilt and empathy brewing in his eyes, as much as he tries to remain cool and collected, he's killing them both.

She mutters to herself as her eyes dart around the room until they land squarely on him. Her voice comes out as a tremble, her bottom lip quivering at the dig, at the way he addressed her to Tom. "Last week, you were on the phone with Tom, weren't you?" She asked and his heart sunk at the memory of the conversation that was meant to be private. He mentally kicked himself for not being more careful.

"…I heard you, I came downstairs to grab a book, I didn't know- you were on the phone with Tom weren't you?"

She heard him sigh, watches as he refused to meet her gaze before uttering a self-deprecating, "Yes."

"What did he say to you?" She couldn't stand still anymore, her weight being shifted from one leg to the other until she decided to aimlessly walk in circles in front of the chair he sat at.

She watched from the corner of her eyes as he got up and walked towards her.

She heard him whisper her name. "Lizzie" It sent a shiver up and down her spine.

She turned and stepped in front of him, so close in distance yet so emotionally far apart. She gritted her teeth until she asked him once again, his face trying to stay controlled and remain stoic even though his eyes were pleading with her to forgive and forget.

"He convinced me that it would be a better idea if you went away with him, it will only be for a couple weeks." He let out a breath before running a hand through his short-cropped hair and then grabbing onto the back of his neck. "Unless you find that you would prefer to stay with him. He could probably keep you safer than I can at the moment."

She shook her head, disbelieving. Her face so close to his, a hairs breath away from their noses touching. Her stare so intense and penetrating that he almost loses his resolve.

"What did he tell you?" She asks again and he tries so hard to keep a blank canvas, absent of the emotions that are conjuring up inside of him.

"What I already knew."

She growls at his answer before her scream hits him like a slap in the face.

"WHAT. DID. HE. ? God damn-it."

His eyes shut closed before he answers her back, his voice brass but not sharp, leering but not harsh, as if he expected nothing less from her. As if she was a petulant child who was getting lectured for the umpteenth time for the same mistake.

"He told me about the rekindling of your relationship, how you rocked his boat, and I must say, I'm happy that you found it in yourself to forgive him so easily- After all that was said and done. You continuously surprise me with these new revelations about yourself, I would of never known how easy it was for a man to get you to spread your legs for him if Tom hadn't been so kind as to-"

His words were muted by the sound of her hand slapping against his cheek. Her chest was heaving from the adrenaline and her body shuddering at his words. She slapped him, but she felt the sting.

She lets out a sob that causes an ache to form inside his heart.

They stood there, face-to-face, the slap didn't make him budge an inch, didn't make him falter or succeed. It just shut him up. If it wasn't for the way he tightened his jaw, she would of thought it was completely unaffected.

The silence was deafening, the only noise was the sound of their heavy breathing. Their breaths coming out in puffs in perfect synchronization while their eyes penetrating into each other- both not daring to look away.

When she finally speaks, her anger and rage giving way to a sadness that nearly breaks him.

"You son-of-a-bitch, don't you dare." Her voice is coarse and thick from crying and she brings a hand up to wipe her nose on her sleeve but she refuses to look away.

"I wanted to know you, all I ever wanted was to be close to you, to understand you and to love you-" Her words caught on a sob, "You never let me in, you never gave me something to hold onto, you never let me know you cared."

He lets out a disbelieving laugh, a painful smile playing upon his face as he tries to hide the anger brewing inside of him before he says and does things that he will be unable to ask for forgiveness for later.

"I have laid my life down for you more times than I can even count-" Her eyes turn to slits and she barks at him before he can even finish a sentence.

"-Yes, okay, you gave me your loyalty and your protection and your care but all those things do not amount to what you didn't give me."

He lets out a huff and crosses his arms across his chest, "And what didn't I give you, Elizabeth?" His voice menacing and dangerous, a tone he has never addressed her with.

She flinches just a bit, but refuses to let him scare her, she knows what he is capable of but she is also aware of what she means to him now- And that is enough to keep her from faltering.

"Love." She states simply and watches the gulp form in his throat. "You knew I thought I was just a ploy for you, that you risked your life for me because you had no choice, because without me- you would be good as dead too. And you never tried to reassure me that I was more than a commodity- that I wasn't a bargaining chip or something you were using to get what you wanted. You made me feel like your interest in me was selfish and it wasn't about me- it was about what I possessed inside of me, you risked your life for me because I had the one thing that could save yours.

"You know that's not true, Lizzie.'

"Yeah, But I didn't know it then, so if your going to blame anyone for me running to Tom and sleeping with him, then blame yourself. Because if I had known then what I know now, I would've never set foot on that boat."

He's even more broken than she could of ever imagined, and she hates that she loves him so much, that she can't bring herself to walk away from him. Her love for him runs so deep in her veins and inside her bones and she wishes she could show him, or just tell him, the weight of the burden is so heavy that she doesn't know how long she will be able to control herself.

He starts to speak but she cuts him off, she wants to make him hurt as much as he hurts her because she hates that he thinks of her as damaged goods- As Tom's leftovers and she knows Red is a proud man and she wants to let him know she is capable of hurting him just as much as he hurts her.

"So, what did Tom say to you?" Her question is rhetorical and he knows it, his shoulders tighten in preparation for a sting greater than her slap. "Did he tell you how he touched me, how he saw me naked- how it felt to be inside of me?"

She feels his breath catch, and sees his eyes darken with a mixture of rage and jealousy. "Did he insinuate that you had feelings for me?"

She moves her face so that their noses are touching now and reaches her hands out to unwrap them from his chest. His eyes give him away, she doesn't know if he's just slacking in his demeanor or if he's deliberately allowing himself this vulnerability towards her.

"Did he chastise you and tell you that you would never have a chance with me? That I wouldn't want someone like you- that you were too old and too damaged? Please tell me what he said that made you tell him that you didn't want his sloppy seconds?" Her voice comes out as a plea, even though her words are meant to hurt him, they cast a shadow right above her.

He looks down at their joined hands, his fingers lightly caressing her palms, his eyelashes flutter and there's this look of fascination plastered on his face, like he can't believe she's letting him touch her and it melts her resolve.

"I'm sorry." She almost doesn't hear it because she's too focused on watching him study the way her hand fits so perfectly into his.

"I don't need you to be sorry, I just need you to tell me that I'm not Tom's sloppy seconds." Her eyes shift to his face but he refuses to tear his gaze away from the task at hand.

"You're not Tom's sloppy seconds, Lizzie."

"Red, look at me." She pleads and waits for him to meet her gaze.

When he does, she expects him to kiss her. She has all these fantasies of how their first time would be. She has always imagined him pulling her roughly against a wall after an argument and latching onto her lips and hiking her up and having his way with her right then and there.

She expects him to tell her that he wants her, that he loves her and then she expects him to mark his territory and make her, his.

But when he tilts his head to face her and opens his mouth to speak, she is sadly disappointed in his answer and his inability to let go of his pride and ego.

"Tom is waiting for you, Lizzie." He simply states and lets go of her hands and watches as they land back at her sides.

She can't help the stunned look that creeps on her face and she almost makes it out of the door but before she can, she turns her head to stare back at him.

"Out of curiosity, what hurts more? The fact that I slept with Tom or knowing that it could have been you if you weren't so intent on pushing me into his arms?"

She doesn't wait for a response let alone enough time to watch his reaction.


	2. The Best Thing You Almost Didn't have

**Thank you for the reviews/follows and favorites! As always this is not beta-ed/edited, wish I had the time/energy/motivation to have my work looked at and revised before being submitted but I just don't have that kind of time and my writing usually takes place on my iPhone, wherever my inspiration hits me at.**

 **Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, nor do I profit off of them.**

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The week has been long, the silence throughout the safe house deafening and the tension in the air stretched tighter than a drum. The conversations that he has mustered to start have been so clinical, impersonal and formal- a devise used to humor her or maybe even to taunt. She can barely stand it anymore, she tries so hard to chip at his walls, but he keeps his guard up and she's slowly losing her mind. There's a countdown on both their heads, waiting for the week to be over with and the day to come when Dembe will arrive to take Lizzie to Tom before he reunites with Red.

She tries so hard to form some type of bond, tries to hold onto something that she feels is slipping between the creases and crevices of her fingers. She longs for everything he used to be willing to give her and resents the new direction their relationship has taken. He's not cold but he is indifferent, he doesn't look at her like he used to and if she thought for a second that she was imagining things- their conversation last week solidified her beliefs and as if that wasn't enough, it also brought out a side of Red that has never fell victim to.

She let him down somehow and she doesn't know what she did or said to warrant the emptiness he makes her feel. There used to be a twinkle in his eye whenever he stared at her, they used to light up and fixate on her every movement when she walked into a room, she used to be able to make him smile, chuckle- she once used to make him laugh. He never let her in completely so how was she ever suppose to figure that he wanted her to turn to him? Not only for answers or protection or even reassurance and a shoulder to lean on, but also for comfort and intimacy? She would have lived her whole life not knowing, he would of never told her…

She doesn't know why but that makes it so much worse. The not knowing- she would of moved on, met someone, married someone and had a family with someone she would of lived her whole life not knowing because he would of never approached her, never told her. He would of let her find solace in someone else's arms and she would have been forced to watch him move on. Something tells her that he's a dying confessions type of guy; she remembers her name on his lips and the barrel of the gun pointed to the back of his head. She can't help but think that the bastard would of told her when it was too late, when everything was said and done, all in the name of clearing his own conscious and dying without uttering a single lie to her.

Now? Now he stares at her like she's the biggest mistake he's ever made, his biggest failure and greatest regret.

It's killing her slowly, like he's using a dull butter knife to tear her from limb to limb and she wonders if she has made him feel this way in the past? Is this his way of punishing her? Of making her taste her own medicine? She knows she has said some terrible things to him, has tried to distance herself from him in the past and has even addressed him as a sociopath to others. All in the name of keeping him at arms length, as an asset, a job – she tried so hard not to view him as a person, a human, and a man.

He brews in his own misery and she has to constantly remind him that its ok- she's ok and in these moments she wishes she knew him better. If only they were closer, on better terms, more comfortable around each other; then she could offer him the comfort that her countless words cannot suffice.

She lost count at how many times her hand has flinched from the urge to reach for his, the moments when she's reached for him and retracted mid-air, forcing herself to stop and halting from fear of the unknown. And now? Well now she might not ever get another chance because she has lost him, and she is lost to him as well.

She lives in fear these days, and she has good reason to.

Fear of being rejected,

Fear of taking a leap of faith.

Fear of reaching out for him and he flinching away from her touch.

He makes her feel dirty, like she's covered in filth and no matter how often she washes her body, or how hard she scrubs at her flesh, the touch and feel of Tom won't erase. That night she had resigned to her room and let her emotions run free, she was sure that he heard her sobs echo from the walls and her heart sunk at the notion that, that realization didn't catapult him into action. He was usually the one who calmed her nerves and wiped away her tears. But now, he was causing her pain and refusing to comfort her through it.

His words had replayed in her mind over and over again until she visibly flinched and got up off the bed to make her way to the bathroom. She stripped off her clothing and turned on the shower, she waited until the cold water tuned hot and then hopped in. It wasn't enough to harbor feelings of shame and regret that crept up and made her cheeks turn red every time her mind would wander to that night on the boat, but on top of that, he had to make her feel that much worse- worthless because of it. By the time she exited the shower, she had used up the rest of the body wash, scrubbed her milky skin for the umpteenth time until it's was red and splotchy and raw.

He knew what she was doing, he had heard that shower run for an hours and he had seen with his own two eyes the evidence and yet- He said nothing.

She should be packing but she can't bring herself to do it, not like this, not ever. She watches the minutes go by on the alarm clock on top of the dresser, if Red has his way, she will be on Tom's boat this time tomorrow and she needs to do something to stop it. If she goes with Tom then any chance of a future with Red will be destroyed, that she is sure of. Even though he's the one literally pushing her into another man's arms, Lizzie knows that once she sets foot on that boat again, then their ship has sailed indefinitely.

She knows if she lets the fear dictate her actions then she will always be left wondering and she doesn't want to wonder anymore, she just wants to know.

She rises from the bed intent on setting all the cards out on the table.

* * *

She doesn't take the time to make herself look presentable, doesn't care that she has boy shorts and a tank top on sans a bra, she doesn't even knock on his door, just barges in with guns blazing. He's lying on top of the covers, with only remnants of the suit he was wearing earlier still on. His vest and tie disposed of as he rests against the headboard with his nose in a book.

"What did you expect from me?" Her voice is hoarse and thick with emotion that she doesn't even try to hide anymore. "Did you expect to sweep me off of my feet? Come into my life and turn it upside down? You turned yourself in to the FBI on my first day and not only did you request my presence but you made it abundantly clear that you would only speak to me. I was a rookie agent and you were number four on the most wanted list-"

He looks up from the book he was just seconds ago completely immersed in and gives her a pointed look while trying to school his reaction. She's half naked in front of him, wearing his name on the lower half of her body, the red material so tight and sparse that he can't tell if its underwear or shorts and a black tank that makes it impossibly easy for him to see her erect nipples brushing up against the thin material. He blinks a few times and averts his gaze before she could get wind of the reaction he's having to her scantly clad attire.

Was she for real? The veins in his forehead were about to pop if he didn't get rid of her soon before he said something he would surely regret but just as he was about to shoo her away, the meaning behind her words registered in his brain.

He can't help the laugh that escapes from his mouth- its utterly cold and laced with something she can't name. "Agent Keen-, Oh wait, that's right…" He pauses for a moment, she doesn't know if its for added effect or to censor his wording, "You're a wanted fugitive, actually if I'm not mistaken, you're number five on that same list, not to mention-" She sees the tick in his eye and the way he tries to bite down on the side of his cheek before he sets his book down on the night stand beside him and swings his feet off the bed and slowly makes his was towards her.

"Aren't you the same woman who allowed herself to be smitten by a double agent whose sole mission was to enter your life and lie and manipulate you into falling in love with him? A man who was paid to pretend to care about you? To pretend to love you?" His voice is solid as a rock, he doesn't yell at her, but there is so much judgment and mockery in his choice of wording and the way his eyes are glaring into hers- Its the most raw emotion she has ever seen in his eyes. "And are you that same woman who almost lost her life to said man after he beat you up and then held a gun to your head, ready to shoot? The same woman who after all that was said and done, all the lies and deceit, the manipulation and abuse, still chose to get on a boat with that man and hop into bed with him." He stands directly in front of her now and he almost flinches when he sees her chest heave and the slight shaking of her body. He hates what a bastard he can be, especially to her, especially after all he was put her through but the pettiness inside of him won't let him succeed.

He's so perplexed that he doesn't remember how to retreat or how to give her the upper hand or even just let some things go, but he just can't seem to let it go, can't seem to erase the images of her and Tom that haunt his every waking minute and doesn't know how to forgive and forget even though she clearly is trying to lay all her cards on the table.

He knows he's a bastard, so he just goes in for the kill. He raises his eyebrows in mock realization, as if he has just figured out the reasoning behind her actions.

"Ah ha," He says slowly, tongue clicking in the roof of his mouth, "It amazes me how you continue to surprise me Lizzie, Do you like being beat up? Is that what turns you on? Having Tom beat you up and then pound you in the bed-"

His words are cut by the sound of her backhanded slap that resonates throughout his dimly lit room. He doesn't so much as flinch, but she sees a storm begin to brew in his eyes.

She's shaking now, uncontrollably and she can't begin to fathom the words that just escaped his lip, words that cut her like a sphere.

Tears trickle down her cheeks while she fights to swallow the wail or sob that wants so badly to escape from her throat.

"You-, you son-of-a-bitch," She almost whispers, her face so shell-shocked that it leaves him breathless because he's never seen her this broken. "I'm not an object, or property for someone to own, I'm a person, with feelings and a heart, and soul…what is wrong with you? How utterly fucked up are you? You don't get to insinuate that I'm a whore, that I like being abused and used. I was broken- I'm broken, and you don't get to judge me for running into some other mans arms when you made sure to make it perfectly clear that you were unavailable."

Her teeth clatter with every word and her hand stings from the impact it made with his cheek but she doesn't care in the least, she doesn't even care what a pompous ass he can be at times, all she cares about is that come tomorrow if she doesn't fix them, he will send her off with Tom.

"I get that your pride might be hurt, or your ego, but you have this young, hot, woman who is literally begging you to be with her and all you're doing is pushing me as far away from you as you possibly can-"

"Your not a woman, you're a little girl who can't make up her mind about what she wants or who she wants. You think I should thank my lucky stars that a girl of your caliber would even entertain the thought of being with me?" He laughs at his own insinuation, practically mocking her. An embarrassed blush creeps up on her features and he tries with all his might to not think about how attractive it looks on her in his dimly lit room. "I'm sorry to inform you, but women do find me attractive and appealing, I've been with women who are sophisticated and beautiful and successful, and yes, young as well- maybe not as young as you are but surely more mature in conduct and just as attractive."

Ouch. He regrets the words even before they leave his mouth and he even tastes the bitterness that they are laced with. He watches as her jaw clenches and her hands involuntarily turn into fists.

His heart falls to the bottom of his stomach when she reaches up and wipes away the errant tears that cover her cheeks, he is such a fucking bastard, and he can't even handle it.

He hates himself. Hates what he has turned her life into. Hates what he has done to them.

He watches her body shake and he wants to take her into his arms and hold her, soothe her worries and let her know that he is the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on and he loves her with all his heart and soul.

Instead, he stalls- stands still as a statue, afraid to breathe, afraid to blink.

She lets out a deep, defeated sigh, and her lower lip quivering. "Tom never hurt me the way you do, I would've gladly taken beating after beating from Tom…because the physical pain would of hurt so much less than the impact of your words. Can you imagine… all you're insecurities, all the things you hate about yourself? All your fears and worries? All the worst possible things you can think of about yourself…your mistakes, your regrets…and then having the one person in this world who you love more than anyone or anything regurgitate and reconfirm all those things?"

Her eyes burn from her tears but she refuses too look anywhere but at him and he doesn't shy away- doesn't look away and she wonders if she will ever see him display any raw emotion that isn't carefully composed. There's a sadness that overcomes her in the moments that they stand face to face, she feels more than defeated, as if all the life is drained from her body. She realizes that there might be no hope left for them and the heaviness in her heart is too much to bear and she struggles for air while a strangled sob escapes her throat.

And she cries unapologetically, and she can't stop crying for all the things they might've had and all the things they'll never get to be.

"Okay," She utters in defeat, her voice sounding as helpless as she feels. "One day you will wake up and realize that this right here," She uses her hand to gesture between the two of them before wiping at her nose and pulling back the loose strands of hair that have stuck to the skin of her face. "This is the biggest mistake you have ever made. It might not be today. It might not happen tomorrow, or a year from now…It might not even occur to you until you're lying on your death bed but I promise you the day will come when you're life flashes before your eyes and you think of me- Of everything we could have had, everything we could have been together and everything I could of given you."

"Because I might not be as worldly or sophisticated as the women who you're used to or the women who you'll choose to be with in the future, but I promise you that none of them will be able to love you the way that I can, the way that I do."

She's so emaciated in her own grief and despair that she misses the ticking in his eye and the way his nostrils flare in an attempt to keep his emotions at bay. Her own vision is clouded and all she can see is shadows and outlines which cause her not to notice the glassines in his eyes and the pool of tears that threaten to escape with every flutter of his eyelashes as he tries to blink back years of what he assumed were unrequited feelings towards his Lizzie.

"You think you're strong now, strong enough to watch me walk away from you but you are just as possessive and territorial of me as I am of you, so have fun sulking in your own misery…"

She huffs and sighs simultaneously before slowly nodding her head in disappointment or disbelief- or maybe both, he doesn't know.

He doesn't know why he can't reach out and touch her, give her the comfort and reassurance she so desperately needs, his mind is yelling at him to move and envelope her in his arms and tell her everything she wants to hear and give her everything he possibly can but his body refuses to take a step forward.

He's never been so scared in his life to take action. She is all he's ever wanted, all he's ever dreamed of having. This woman has been the cause of his happiness and the beacon of hope in his darkest hours and she is capable of breaking him- what's left of him anyway. This is a moment he has dreamed about, played out in countless fantasies and yet – The thought of it now that its right in front of him, within reach, is the single most terrifying hurdle he has ever been confronted with.

He hates himself for hurting her but she has the power to destroy him and he has given her that power willingly but exposing his true feelings for her will give her all the ammunition needed to break him and he's already only holding on by a couple loose strings.

But when her body starts to move, her feet backtrack a couple steps and she turns to leave, something snaps in him.

Maybe it's the implications of her words, he has lived the past 25 years in loneliness and seclusion, the weight of his struggles and burdens and the implications of his choices have resulted in a life full of emptiness and sorrow- He has been accustomed to his own self-loathing and melancholy that he doesn't know how to be happy. She makes him so happy, she fills every single void in his heart, she makes him believe in redemption and second-chances, and she makes him want more for himself- love himself.

Lizzie makes his life more than just bearable, she makes it beautiful and he'll be damned if another man gets to be on the receiving end of everything she is capable of giving.

Before she can make an exit, his reflexes act and he uses his hand to grab at her arm before pulling her roughly against his body and wrapping his arms protectively around her waist and then shoving her against his bedroom door, causing it to shut.

Her chest is heaving, her mouth agape and breathless at the impact of his actions combined with the weight of his body pressing up against hers- limb to limb. She looks into his eyes and they have turned from green to a stormy grey, his pupils dilated and his face contorted in a hungry, wanton sort of way. Like a predator studying his prey, lascivious and dangerous but she wasn't so much as scared as she was aroused.

She lets out a low surprised moan escape when his hands move from her waist, caressing up and down the outside of her thighs before reaching the back of her knees and lifting her up and guiding her smooth bare legs to wrap around his waist, her hands instantly move to cradle his neck, her fingers grasp at the short-cropped hair with gently messaging the skin underneath.

Their eyes meet and it's a commutation of heat and desire and unrequited love that is so close to erupting; If only he'll let it.


	3. Powerless When it Comes to You

Okay, this really got away from me. I have to learn how to shut up and get to the point. It got too long so there will be another chapter after this. There's no sex in this chapter :/ but there is the makings of torturous foreplay and they do get naked but the actual sex will be next chapter. Also, I disclaim the characters and the show and yada, yada and I have no beta and all mistakes are mine and I'm sorry to those of you that do mind but I don't have the time, sorry. Yada, Yada. Oh and sorry if it sucks :/

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He can't help leaning into her touch, bowing his head slightly as the tips of her fingernails scratch in between the short-cropped hair at the base of his neck. Her touch feels so much better than what he imagined it might and it surprises him to say the least because he had already compartmentalized it and stored it on a pedestal that he was sure was out of reach- and of course she not only reached it but also surpassed it.

His hands want so badly to wander and touch the flesh that is exposed to him, the legs that currently have him barricaded and wrapped around his waist, the chest that heaves up and down with short-ragged breaths- barely covered by a thin scrap of material she calls a shirt.

He has her leaning against the door, her back lightly touching the hard surface but his weight still keeps her in place and his hands still grip at the back of her thighs. He takes a few short breathes and tries not to think about how wonderful it feels to hold her and how completely content he would be for the rest of his life if she would let him not only make her the center of his universe but also make her something akin to his partner, his lover- wife.

He swallows the large lump in his throat as he fights to open his eyes that remain tightly shut and meet her gaze.

She pulls at the hairs in an attempt to get his attention and spur him into action- She's wondered for far too long what his lips taste like and she's burdened with a burning need to make up for all her mistakes and not be afraid to show him how much she loves him, how devoted she is to them and how imperative it is for him to realize that her loyalty is his and his alone.

She chooses him. And she has chosen him from the moment he walked into her life. She is his- and she won't rest until he knows without a shadow of a doubt that there is no future for her if he isn't in it.

His eyes snap and narrow but instead of kissing her, his stare fixates between her lips and those eyes. She can clearly see he is fighting with himself an internal battle over instinct and resignation.

"Right here, right now, Lizzie." He begins in a low voice, thick with emotion, "You're far too young, far too naive, and far too confused to know what you want… but I know what I want and I know what I feel and no matter how strong my feelings for you or the depth of my devotion, I cannot give you all of me...it would be like asking you to shoot me with my own gun." He speaks in whispered breaths that send goose pimples all up and down her flesh and it makes it so hard for her to understand the meaning behind his words. When she finally registers what he's trying to say, her fingers abruptly stop and her eyes search for his.

"No. Stop this, Red." Her voice pleading with him while slowly shaking her head in disagreement, "You don't get to do this, you don't get to run away from me, I. Love. You." She says adamantly. Her voice shaking slightly though her words come out solid and pleading.

"You think you love me, Lizzie." He counters with such sadness in his eyes and that is mirrored in his voice and her heart aches at his words. She sees that the venom has left his voice from earlier and his shoulders slouch in defeat but she won't let him give up on her.

"I was confused. There, I admit it." Lizzie confesses and tightens her grip on his neck when she feels his hands start to drag in an attempt to put her down, "But that was when we were living with half-truths and lies by omission. You see by trying to protect me, you pushed me away and that was because of my own stupidity but I truly felt like you were using me and I was so afraid that I meant nothing to you, that I was just a ploy for you to get what you needed and the thought of you leaving after I gave you the fulcrum made me sick to my stomach- and I had to convince myself that you meant nothing to me so I could find the strength to move on without you when you did leave." Her forehead is pressed tightly against his as her breath tickles his face with every word she utters.

His hands tighten their grip on her once again and pin her into place, "I've survived the past twenty-five years as a fugitive, as someone who is virtually being hunted by everyone. I've been shot, tortured, poisoned and prisoned but none of those things killed me- but you? -" He says before searching for her eyes, foreheads still pressed together and he takes a few seconds to take her in before he can't stand to look at her anymore.

"You slept with Tom." He growls and his defenses are up again, walls built so high and strong in mere seconds. "You let him touch you," His words are emphasized by his hands moving up from the back of her knees and caressing the flesh of her thighs before moving to the curve of her ass and grabbing at both cheeks roughly before pushing into her.

Her rebuttal was on her lips, ready to be vocalized for the umpteenth time but it catches in her throat when his hands start wandering and a gasp escapes her lips at the feel of him pressed up against her. He's rock solid and thick and the way he slightly bent at his knees enables his erection to press right up against her mound and it causes her legs to quiver under his grasp and her head to fall back against the door.

Her chest is in full view now, her tank ridden up her abdomen and pulled down tight at her breasts– the material only covering her pert nipples and allowing his gaze to feast on the sight of her cleavage. He watches the rise and fall of it with every ragged breath she takes and resists the urge to rock into her again just so he could be rewarded with the sight of her tits bouncing up and down for him.

 _Why is she so beautiful?_ He can't help but think.

He hears her sigh though he's still enthralled by the sight of her exposed flesh and he can't school his reaction- not to this glorious sight. Not when he's imagining running the tip of his tongue down between the soft curves of her breasts and mesmerizing all the planes and crevices of her body.

"I was thinking of you," She admits in a murmur, "The whole time I was pretending I was with you." Lizzie arches her back and lets her hands loosen their grip around his neck. "I was trying to protect my heart by pushing you away, I thought that you were using me, that you didn't care for me. So whatever feelings I harbored inside, I made sure not to let seep to the surface." Her hands move until they rest on his shoulders and she begins to lightly knead his flesh before languidly letting her hands drop down his chest.

"You never gave me an indication that you saw me as anything else but Sam's little girl, you were there to protect me and save me but through my eyes those actions were done because of either ulterior motives or because of your guilt and obligation. I felt like I had to suppress my growing feelings or pretend they didn't exist by continuously giving you the cold shoulder and acting like you meant nothing to me- I was already broken, confused and I felt used."

Red's eyes snap and his nostrils flare, "So you ran back into the arms of a man whose sole job was to manipulate and use you to get to me?" He asks mockingly.

"I knew Tom…not Jacob and I went to him because my hope in you was gone and yes, I wanted to hurt you in a subconscious way, even if you didn't have feelings for me- I knew you hated Tom and that the only reason he was alive was because you didn't want to hurt me." She confesses and reaches out to cup the side of his face.

Her thumb brushes the smooth skin of his cheek while her pinky traces the outline of his sideburn. She watches as he relaxes against her touch and wishes that he would stop putting them through this hell over and over again. He looks tired and worn out, and she wishes she had the guts to make the first move but she fears his rejection.

"Its not as if you haven't flirted with women in my presence or gloated about your prowess and endless list of females you have seduced." She spits out in a jealous leer and she almost wants to smack him again.

Red's face contorts as he looks down at her with hooded eyes, his blonde eyelashes flutter and she can't help but marvel at how thick and long they are and she wishes their faces were closer so they could caress her face- she imagines them feeling as soft as a feather.

"Those women were casual sexual escapades and one night stands, Lizzie." He huffs, "I might be a little older than you but I'm still a man that has needs and wants."

"Yeah, I know." She rasps while clutching her legs even tighter together around him, "I can feel your need pressing against me as we speak."

He groans at the sensation and the sound makes her light-headed and she wonders how he sounds like in the throes of passion, if he retorts to small moans and heavy breathing or does he prefer to be vocal and loud and uninhibited?

She bites back a moan when she feels his hot breath beside her ear. "Humph." He mutters darkly, "You have an answer for everything, don't you?" She feels dizzy and incredibly aroused and even though she should be paying attention to his words, all she can think about is how bad she wants to move her shorts to the side and let him slip in.

"You told me once that you found jealousy to be a base emotion."

"Its not just jealousy, Lizzie." She cries out when his teeth close around her earlobe and gently nibble at her flesh. "I'm possessive and obsessive and territorial." She feels her hips buck involuntarily and her inner muscles contract simultaneously. She has never been this turned on by a jealous, controlling man; A man who called her sloppy seconds. "You're not like the other women before you, they meant nothing to me, but you? You're going to be the death of me." He resigns, "You already hold my happiness and joy in the palm of your hand…I can't let you take what's left of me…It will ruin me when you change your mind and leave me, I'm already broken as is but that will surely kill me."

There's a mixture of fear and pain in his eyes and it makes her hate herself for the rift she has caused between them, for the way he feels so strongly about protecting his heart from her, and for the fact that he believes she would change her mind and leave him.

"I know what I want," Lizzie states, "I've known it since that day we sat next to each other on that bench waiting for the white bus to pick us up and run away. You thought you were protecting me by not telling me the truth but all that did was push me away and make me weary of your true intentions, and then I shot Connolly and the memories came flooding back… you were my knight in shinning armor and I was the princess that you saved."

He doesn't say anything, but his stare is heated and wanton and she watches as his gaze rakes over her body slowly as his tongue darts out before tracing the outline of the top of his teeth.

She's had enough, "What do I have to do to make you believe me?" She asks, "Do you want to pee on me? Mark your territory so everyone knows I'm yours?" Before he can answer or react, her hands reach for the hem of her tank and she curves at her spine while pulling it up and over her head. This causes for more of her weight to be deposited onto him and the friction it causes in their nether regions causes both to moan in unison.

He's gifted with the view of her bare breasts as they lightly bounce with her ministrations. She leans back against the door and throws the scrap of material behind him. They're even more perfect then he could of imagined, if that's really even possible. He longed to take the creamy flesh between his teeth; to suck and nip until there was no doubt who she belonged to.

As if reading his mind, Lizzie spoke. "Or you could just leave your marks with your mouth." She purrs in a breathless whisper and he's not strong enough to resist this- resist her.

She sees the change instantly- His gaze is hungry and predatory and he looks like he's ready to pounce. The muscles of his neck twitch and the veins of his forearms protrude and then she feels the impact of his body colliding with hers – His arms wrapping so tight around her in delirious pleasure and his mouth crashing into hers in a mix of desperation, desire and burning need.

There's no thinking, just feeling. A blind desire fueled by passion and its aggressive and rough and hot- like two caged animals finally set free and into the wild. His lips are buttery soft but the strength behind his kiss has her shattering into a million pieces. He's needy- and he doesn't ask for permission, he just takes what he wants and she wouldn't want it any other way.

She loves the way he nips at her bottom lip, pushes his tongue into her mouth and swirls it around and massages their tongues together. The way he cradles her neck and brings her face as close to his as it can possibly get. She loves the way her lips sting from his bites and kisses and can't wait to see the bruises his touches leave behind.

She groans when his lips leave hers with a pop but cries out when his hot mouth traces kisses from her collarbone to the dip between her breasts before taking a nipple into his mouth and biting down on it before finally sucking it into his mouth. She hears him growl in the distance through the fog and agonizing pleasure. He rotates between both breasts, showing them equal attention and she's enthralled by the way he makes her feel like he wants to swallow her whole. His rough hands pinch and squeeze one of her breasts while his mouth occupies the other with his teeth and lips sucking on her nipple like a man dying of thirst.

Eventually he carries her to his bed and props her on top of it. His gaze drifts hungrily over her body and Red watches as a red flush stains her cheeks and slowly spreads across her body. She's so beautiful and flawless and his cock twitches at the sight of _his Lizzie_ spayed out on his bed looking wanton and aroused beyond belief. His hands rake up from her ankles, across her thighs and onto her hips before he tugs at the elastic of her shorts and hastily rips them off her body.

His hands go back into motion, tracing lines across her ribs and down her sides before sliding down her body and leaving kisses in his wake. "Spread your legs," She hears him howl, but he doesn't wait for her to oblige. He uses his knees, inserting one and then the other in the space between her thighs and gently forces them apart. His breath is ragged and his eyes are fixated on her bare mound, his blood boiling as her legs fall open wider, "Yes, Just like that." He croaks and she catches him staring, completely mesmerized by the sight, by the pretty pink folds of flesh that glisten so temptingly.

 _She's so wet,_ he thinks and can't help when the egotistical part of his brain that screams with male pride. He tries to ignore the throbbing between his legs, to ignore the urging of his cock that wants nothing more than to pump into her.

Lizzie watches him twitch underneath his slacks, his erection pushing against the fabric and begging to be let free and she wants to snap her legs closed and rub her thighs for some sort of friction- or relief. He's still fully clothed and she's completely naked and its not fair, she wants to feast her eyes on him, on the goods that are being teased through layers of clothing but she wants and needs to see the unobstructed view. Instead, she spreads her legs as wide as they can go and thrusts her thighs into the air, "Red, Please." She begs of him. And his nostrils fill with the sweet scent of her arousal and his eyes feast on the sight of her spread lips and exposed clit.

His eyes roll back into his head as he fights the urge to come into his pants. He takes short, deliberate breaths before his hands go to work on his belt and zipper, he pushes his shirttails out of his slacks before undoing the last few buttons and leaving him in an undershirt. He pulls his slacks down to his knees to reveal his tented boxers before finally pulling them down over his slacks and relieving the hard, thick length of his cock bouncing against his belly.


	4. Fire and Ice

**I think this is the last chapter, not sure though and I'm not very happy with it :(, its a challenge to write smut and I salute all the authors who are so very good at it. This, like all my work is unbetaed and I don't own Blacklist or Red and Lizzie.**

* * *

The morning sunrise peaks over the horizon and caresses her face through the thin curtains of his bedroom window while slowly stirring her 's a fog that clouds her brain, a mix of arousal and desire that has been caged and repressed and now finally let free and she feels uninhibited and liberated and thoroughly satiated. She inhales deeply and she's overwhelmed by the scent of him and her mixed in beautiful harmony with the faint smell of sex in the air that conjures up all the images of the previous nights activities. She sighs contentedly when she feels his warm breath on her neck and how even in his sleep, he pulls her closer to him, her back to his chest spooning her in their own little cocoon. She can't help but take notice to how possessive a man he is even in unconsciousness with one hand cupping her breast and the other arm wrapped protectively around her waist and palm settled on the inner side of her thigh. She also can't help how turned on she gets just by thinking about how controlling and irrational he can be at times, how even the man who once told her he thought jealousy was a base emotion could be consumed and blinded by it- it made her feel less alone in her own discretions and clinginess.

She remembers how her breath caught in her throat when her eyes caught sight of his naked form- the way her gaze stayed glued on his proud cock bouncing against his belly and the low chuckle that escaped deep from within his throat when she instinctually licked her lips. Her flesh still tingles with the aftershocks and the remnants of his touch, his kisses and the incredible feeling of being so delisciously filled by him and she never wants to erase from her body nor mind. She shivers when she thinks about how his mouth had worshipped every inch of her, his attentiveness and selflessness that left her gasping for breath and screaming his name over and over again. The sight of him in between her legs with his head buried in her mound and the moans of pleasure that echoed in the room as if he were feasting on that baklava that he spoke so highly of. The hunger in his eyes and the eagerness of his tongue as he lapped relentlessly at her sex and nibbled on her nub until her pelvis rocked up and back in rhythm with her building desire and she convulsed in a heap of cries and moans while coming into his awaiting mouth.

Lizzie now has a better understanding of why past lovers of Red greet him with those wide smiles and eyes full of lust and she can't help but cringe when she thinks about him giving them all his attentions even though at the back of her mind she knows that only she has bared witness to the devotion and intimacy he is capable of giving because he had saved that solely for her. She can't fathom that they almost didn't happen as the weight of that very thought causes a fist to squeeze at her heart- Its an outcome that was almost inevitable and one that would of destroyed her very being because after last night, she doesn't even remember what it felt like to love another man- because she can't bring herself to compartmentalize her past lovers with Red because the man laying behind her was on a level all on his own- one that Tom nor Nick could never compete with. She can't believe how close they were to never getting to this place, how adamant he was about sending her back to Tom and how their whole lives could of been destroyed because of her stupid mistake and his stubbornness.

She feels his body shift and she can't help but squirm when his morning erection pokes at her behind and causes his hips to thrust against her in his sleepy haze. She wants to let him sleep and rest but is tempted to wake him up for another round and her cheeks flush at the very thought. She can't believe that he made her come four times last night, _four times,_ she muses and she still hasn't had enough of him. She's never been one for marathon sex, she can't even remember having sex twice in a day and yet even though she's sorer then she's ever been, she still craves the fullness and stretching that she felt last night- a mixture of pleasure and pain that she'd never experienced before and a heightening of all her senses that left her a puddled mess at his mercy. She had initiated sex before with Tom but she's never been consumed by desire and lust and even though Red had dominated her every being, she was so willing and eager and wanton; nothing like the mundane character she usually played in the bedroom. And Red, he was, to say the least, aggressive and primal and he consumed her- owned her from the first touch. His hands were as possessive as his lips and laced with the need to claim her even though in a sense she had always been his.

He had been so present in their lovemaking, his gaze greedily fixated on various parts of her body and clearly fascinated with every inch of exposed flesh. His eyes never left hers as he laid above her and ran the length of his cock up and down in between her folds- teasing and tempting her while slicking himself up with the juices his touches had created. Her hips had bucked and she tried to ground herself into him but he resisted. Her legs trembled against his thighs when he lowered his head and nibbled on her earlobe and she almost came again before he was even inside of her when he growled _"Mine."_ Just a second before he thrusted inside of her with one long, hard stroke. She should've felt embarrassed by the noises that escaped her lips but she couldn't help the initial shock and discomfort that came with being stretched and filled to a tilt even if she was sopping wet and he didn't give her enough time to adjust to his size nor girth.

She'll never forget the look on his face when their bodies met for the very first time. Being witness to him in the throes of passion was the most erotic sight she had ever seen- the way his eyes rolled back and his nostrils flared and the way his face contorted when he buried the length of him root deep inside her. She tried to fixate and pay attention to every detail but she was too consumed in her own pleasure and needs and when the initial pain turned into a maddening desire and need to come, she opted to forgo thinking and just let her body feel.

There was a methodical rhythm to his thrusts, a certain way that he moved his hips and ground them into her that had her gasping and moaning his name while clutching onto him for dear life. _"Do you like that?"_ He had asked her in a breathless whisper that sent a shiver up and down her spine before his mouth latched onto a nipple, biting it before sucking on the tender pebbled flesh. She searched for her voice in the middle of gasps and moans and the whimpers he kept eliciting from her body. Lizzie was never vocal in the bedroom but the passion between them and the pleasure he was taking from her and then giving to her lowered her inhibitions. _"So good…you feel so good inside of me."_ Her voice raspy and low, it sounded foreign to her own ears and she couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips at the way he moaned her name in her hair. _"Lizzie, you're so goddamn tight."_ She tried to relax her muscles but she kept clenching around him much to his dismay, he told her he wanted to last as long as possible but he was hitting such a sweet spot inside of her that had her panting and squirming until she felt her body consumed with convulsions as she reached her peak and came all over him, moaning his name into the night.

The third time he brought her to orgasm, Red had grabbed her by the hips and maneuvered them around with his back against the headboard and her on top, riding him. It was erotic and raunchy, his hands grabbed at her ass, squeezing and caressing each cheek with the occasional enthusiastic slap at her tender flesh while his mouth latched onto every part of her that it could reach. With their foreheads resting against each other and one hand clutching the back of his neck and the other pushing up against the wood of the headboard, she remembers biting her lower lip at as he looked up at her through glazed over eyes gritted teeth and even before he mutters the words, she knows. He comes in a series of warm, pulsating squirts and the feeling of him twitching inside of her combined with the friction of his pelvis against her clit throws her over the edge once again.

The fourth time, she got accustomed to a side of him she'd never seen and and couldn't help the relief that passed through her body when he laid all of his feelings and emotions bare for her. He was gentle and loving and his caresses were soothing as he slowly made love to her. He worshipped her in a way that no man had done before, whispered endearing words in her ears about her beauty and how amazing she felt wrapped around him, and asked for her to reassure him that she was his.

She is brought out of her reminiscing as she feels him start to stir awake, she shifts her body from his embrace and turns to face him in his wake.

"Good Morning." His voice is even more appealing in the early morning, impossibly rich and thick from sleep.

"Morning," She sighs contentedly before wrapping her hands around his waist and molding their bodies together. She buries her face in the crook of his neck and inhales deeply. "I don't ever want to leave this bed." She states while entangling their legs together.

He lets out a low chuckle before rolling her over on her back for a morning romp.


End file.
